tered the breach--the firing was awful, and the carnage dreadful. It
was more than an hour after the assault commenced before the French
tricolor waved upon the minarets of Constantine.

"'It was not until the next day that I could make up my mind to search
for my husband's body; but it was my duty. I climbed up the breach,
strewed with the corpses of our brave soldiers, intermingled with those
of the Arabs; but I could not find my husband. At last a head which had
been blown off attracted my attention. I examined it--it was my
Philippe's, blackened and burnt, and terribly disfigured: but who can
disguise the fragment of a husband from the keen eyes of the wife of his
bosom? I leaned over it. "My poor Philippe!" exclaimed I; and the tears
were bedewing my cheeks when I perceived the Duc de Nemours close to me,
with all his staff attending him. "What have we here?" said he, with
surprise, to those about him. "A wife, looking for her husband's body,
mon Prince," replied I. "I cannot find it; but here is his head." He
said something very complimentary and kind, and then walked on. I
continued my search without success, and determined to take up my
quarters in the town. As I clambered along, I gained a battered wall;
and, putting my foot on it, it gave with me, and I fell down several
feet. Stunned with the blow, I remained for some time insensible; when I
came to, I found----"

"'That you had broken your nose.'

"'No, indeed; I had sprained my ankle and hurt the cap of my knee, but
my nose was quite perfect. You must have a little patience yet.

"'What fragments of my husband were found, were buried in a large grave,
which held the bodies and the mutilated portions of the killed; and,
having obtained possession of an apartment in Constantine, I remained
there several days, lamenting his fate. At last it occurred to me that
his testamentary dispositions should be attended to, and I wrote to
General Vallee, informing him of the last wishes of my husband. His
reply was very short: it was, that he was excessively flattered, but
press of business would not permit him to administer to the will. It was
not polite.

"'On the 26th I quitted Constantine with a convoy of wounded men. The
dysentery and the cholera made fearful ravages, and I very soon had a
_caisson_ all to myself. The rain again came on in torrents, and it was
a dreadful funeral procession. Every minute wretches, jolted to death,
were thrown down into pits by th